𝟎𝟗𝟔.                       𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚.𝐢

soap ──── melanie martinez

☀︎ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖣𝖱𝖨𝖵𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖡𝖠𝖢𝖪 𝖳𝖮 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖲 𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖲𝖤．Nobody talked, we just sat in eerie silence. The only time I spoke was to say goodbye to Matilda who, this time, didn't put up any kind of fight to returning home which pained me more than I thought it would. After what she just saw, I feel nothing but guilty because she shouldn't have had to see something so cruel── something so Kook.

With Matilda gone and safely at her house, I do, however, feel an ounce better, I guess. Sure, the guilt remains, but as long as she's away from all this shit that spirals because of us, I don't care. Like I said, our world is no place for a six-year-old girl, not when she's already been through a train wreck of stuff in the past few weeks.

I keep finding myself looking at Kiara who has her head in Emory's lap, her eyes closed. I'm glad Emory punched Ruthie as she absolutely deserved it for what she did to that turtle and to my best friend, but I wish we'd got to fucking bury that bitch. I want her and Topper hung, drawn and quartered, I swear.

JJ high-fived Emory once we were far enough away from the Kooks, not that I'm surprised. We all knew how much Ruthie deserved that, and I think some of the Kooks even knew that too. Hell, I even applauded Emory for what she did, pleased that she did something to shut that bitch up.

Now, however, none of us can find the words, not until we arrive at the house.

Honestly, the only thing I can think about doing is changing into comfortable clothing, throwing myself into bed, dragging JJ in with me and sleeping. I want to put this entire day behind us, forget it ever happened as it has sucked. Sure, it was fun at the beginning, but like most of our days lately, it ends in fucking disaster.

However, based on the solemn look on Pope's face when we arrive at the house, I don't imagine I'll get much rest. "Hey, Pope," I greet, lifting my hand in some kind of wave.

Pope looks faraway, like he's not here with us── like he's lost. I move towards him, a tightness arising in my chest as I look to him. "Yo," JJ speaks, also waving to the boy.

"Hey," Emory greets, continuing to shake off the obvious pain in her hand.

"How'd it go?" JJ asks, referring to his choice to skip out on the swell day and be on research duty, wanting to discover more about the amulet we possess. JJ's eyes drop, as do mine, and we spot red on his hands.

My mouth gapes, my feet quickening to reach him. "Pope..."

"What is that?" Kiara asks. "Is that blood? Pope, whose blood is that?"

"Pope, Pope." JJ snatches his hands, examining them like he can figure an explanation by simply looking at his hands. "Pope, what happened?" Pope doesn't offer us an answer, and my anxiety only continues to bubble at the surface, threatening to unleash if we don't find answers soon. JJ then snatches his shoulders, shaking hard. "Pope, what happened?"

"Where's Cleo?" Sarah asks.

Shit. Is that Cleo's blood? Is she──

"S-She's inside," Pope stutters out, his voice weak and drained. Each of my friends barge into the house as that does not answer our concerns about Cleo. Is she dead inside? Is she alive inside? What the fuck is going on?

As my friends rush forward to the house, I move towards Pope, placing a hand on his face, watching him flinch. "Hey." He swallows thickly, tears brimming his eyes. "Hey, Pope. It's okay." I'm not sure if it's okay, I just need to say something, anything. "Come on." I slide my arm around his shoulders and we follow our friends into the house.

I don't prepare for what I'm about to see. Honestly, I never expected to see something like this on the floor of my living room.

I stop at the door, eyes falling on the scene before me. A stuttered gasp slips past my lips, my entire body tensing as I find a man on our floor. A dead man on the floor of our living room. His clothes are soaked in blood, a gun lying beside him on the ground. Cleo is staring down at him, tears in her eyes, her entire body frozen to the countertop in the kitchen.

"W-What the hell," I whisper, though I can barely hear my own voice. "What happened?"

"It's Terrence," Cleo utters, her voice timid.

I was familiar with that name, each of us were. Well, maybe not Emory, but she doesn't dare open her mouth to ask, not when this is the kind of predicament we're in.

Anyway, Terrence is the man who helped Sarah and John B in the Bahamas. He's a large part of the reason why I still have a brother as he allowed Sarah and John B upon his ship when he found them in the sea after that storm that seems so long ago now. Terrence is also the reason Sarah and John B met Cleo, and in turn, why we met Cleo.

From what I know from Cleo, this man raised her from the age of thirteen, taking her aboard his ship and taking care of her like his own. In a way, he was like a father to her, and now he's just fucking dead on our floor.

Emory's hand covers her mouth. "Fuck."

I can't look at the body, not for a second longer. I move away, heading straight for the back door so I can breathe in some real air, and Pope follows after me. "Pope, what the hell happned?" I ask, genuinely feeling as though I could be sick.

Sure, I've seen my fair share of dead bodies and blood. Hello, my father died right before my eyes, but I've never felt like this before── never this violently ill over something I don't even understand. How can Terrence be dead on our floor right now? How is this possible?

"Lightner called me," he tells, voice shaking. "He said I had till four. I came as fast as I could. I got here, he had the gun right in her face." He inhales a sharp breath, on the verge of a panic attack, much like myself. "And Terrance, he..." His head shakes, hands clutching a wet cloth. "I wish I could've done something..."

"Hey, hey." I didn't mean to freak him out, not when he had to bear witness to something like this. "Listen to me, okay, you did all you could, Pope." I step to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. "You're good. Just breathe." I breathe, and he mimics me. "You're alright." I squeeze his shoulder tightly, continuing to inhale and exhale, hoping to ease some of the tingling in my chest. "Damn it."

Pope peers at me as I look ahead, finding solace in my surroundings for a moment. "I... I did figure something out..." Clearing my throat, I look back to him. "...at the Blackbeard museum before he took the amulet," he informs. "That translation. I think I know what it means."

My eyebrows furrow. "What?"

"The blockade of Charleston."

My mouth gapes, confusion etched on my face. "Huh?"

"Blackbeard unloaded something at the Half Moon Battery," he clarifies. "He hid something in Charleston."

"Charleston? W-Why Charleston?"

Pope shrugs. "I don't know." He looks away from me, staring out to the grass. "Whoever these people are, Brooke, they have the amulet."

"He stole the amulet," I realise, head shaking because we're once again at a loss.

"But I bet they haven't figured out how to translate it yet."

I open my mouth to respond when the back door is shoved open, revealing my panicked boyfriend. "We've got a big problem. Shoupe's here."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I nod towards Pope. "Hold that thought."

Pope and I rush back into the house, following after JJ and back into the hellish room that holds Terrence's dead body. "Oh my God," Sarah panics, dragging her hands through her hair. "Oh my God."

"Why is Shoupe here?" Emory asks, more to herself than to anyone else. "He's just sitting in his damn car."

It's just fucking convenient that the one time we have a fucking dead body in our house and Shoupe decides to make a house call. How sweet. Is this about the body? Did Lightner do this── did he tip Shoupe off? No, he can't have, right? Is this about what just happened at the beach? How could he have found out this fast?

"We have a dead body in our living room!"

"No shit, Pope," Emory curses, looking away from the window.

"What are we gonna do?" Pope asks.

"What do you mean? We have to tell the truth," Kiara speaks, and that might be the worst suggestion I've ever heard, and JJ isn't exactly brilliant when it comes to snap decisions, no offence to him.

"Tell the truth? You're kidding, Kie."

"We did nothing wrong," she cries. "Someone broke into our house!"

"Kie, it's Shoupe," JJ snaps. "He's never gonna believe us." He's not wrong. Shoupe would just love to throw us in jail, innocent or not. "What we need to do is get out of here. We need to banana split."

"And go where, genius?" Emory asks, placing her hands on her hips.

"Okay, I don't know," he shouts back at Emory. "but it's better than staying here. Number one rule, never trust a cop. Especially that one. Okay?"

"Yeah, no shit, but we have nowhere to go!"

Shoupe hits his hand against the door, startling us and stopping JJ and Emory from continuing to bicker. "JJ! Anybody home?"

"John B, what do you wanna do?" Sarah asks, worry laced in her voice.

"We did nothing wrong," Kiara repeats, her panic beginning to set in as she breathes heavily. Shoupe hits his hand on the door again, needing us to answer, but we can't when there's a fucking body in our living room.

"Okay." JJ places his hands on John B's shoulder. "I need you to make a decision right now. What's it gonna be?"

Shoupe hits his hand on the door again. "Come on out." No.

My brother and boyfriend continue to stare at one another, both waiting for the other to make some kind of decision, and I let it be me who makes the choice. I look to Terrence's body on the floor, knowing what we need to do.

I glance back at the boys. "Hide the body," I say.

"Hide the bo── Hide the body, where?"

I look away from Pope, glancing at the sofa. "Behind the sofa," I reply, knowing it's not very smart, but it's what we gotta do, I'm afraid.

"Behind the sofa?"

"Yes!" I whisper-yell despite Shoupe knowing we're inside. "Move."

──────────────────────────

✩ 𝐣𝐣'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖧𝖨𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖠 𝖡𝖮𝖣𝖸 𝖨𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖨 𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖧𝖳 𝖨'𝖣 𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖣𝖮．More specifically, a body we didn't kill.

I was instructed to distract Shoupe which, well, was difficult as I knew what my friends were doing just inside the house. I think I gave them enough time though, and based off how they each appeared when I stepped into the house with Shoupe following me, I definitely gave them enough time to clear the evidence of a murder. Only issue is, it reeks of bleach in here, not that I think Shoupe will take any interest in that.

I know where the body is── behind the sofa, laying on a skateboard. What we can't do now is let that be known to Shoupe even if we didn't kill anyone.

"Oh, hi, Shoupe," Sarah greets, sitting up from her place on the sofa.

Based on how they're sitting and standing, they told each other to act as normal as possible. I don't spot Cleo, suspecting she's upstairs and away from what just happened as she was absolutely not in any kind of state to deal with Terrence and his murder.

"Shoupe!" Emory speaks, voice is cheery as it can be given the circumstances.

"Hi, Shoupe," Brooke beams, looking up from the fake card game she, John B and Pope are playing on the coffee table.

"Gangs all here, huh?" He casts a glance at each of my friends, lips pressed in a firm line. "What, we're y'all too high to hear me knocking?"

"Been a long day," Kiara replies, shrugging.

Shoupe nods, tilting his head to me. "Hey, everybody mind clearing out for a minute and letting me, uh, talk to your boy and Emory alone?" I cast a glance at Emory who literally looks like she couldn't give less of a shit, probably already aware of what Shoupe is here to discuss because, hello, he wants to talk to us── the one who just threatened Kooks and hid a body.

Let's hope he's not here to discuss the latter.

Emory just offers him a tight-lipped smile and moves to sit down on the sofa, kicking her legs up on the coffee table in front of her, nearly hitting Brooke. Everybody else in the room looks at Shoupe with puzzled expressions, obviously trying to work out why he's here right now when we've got a body hidden behind the sofa. "Uh, yeah, yeah. No problem, Shoupe."

Kiara begins to walk away with John B and Sarah who is being followed by Pope. "We'll just get out of your hair."

Brooke brushes past me, fingers skimming over mine as our eyes meet. "We'll be outside."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see you guys in a sec."

"Good seeing y'all," Shoupe drawls on as everybody but me and Emory── oh, and obviously the dead guy behind the sofa── clear the room. "Why don't you sit down?" Shoupe suggests, looking over at me as I lean back against the wall.

Following his orders, I move to sit down beside Emory who still has that "I don't give a shit" look in her eye as she trains her eyes on me while I attempt to get comfortable. Shoupe is moving a wooden chair to pull it in front of us, preparing for this supposed interrogation.

I peer at Emory, finding her eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted as she looks at me. "What?"

"Does your shirt say Pookie?"

I look down at the shirt I'm wearing, already knowing what it says. "Yeah, why?" Like she can talk with the shirt she's currently wearing. "You're wearing a shirt that says tuesdays suck. Why? I don't know."

"They just suck," she replies casually, but I seriously would like to know why Tuesdays suck in her world.

I glance down, noticing Terrence's body. It's right there, haunting us from behind the sofa, and if Shoupe moves in any kind of way, he may catch a small glimpse of the body which would not be ideal. Clearing my throat, I figure out a subtle way to further ensure that we don't get caught. "There's way too many damn pillows on here, man," I say, shoving off said pillows, watching them hit the floor in front of his body. "Alright, uh, let's make this quick, you know? Tick-tock."

"Let's," Shoupe agrees, pulling his phone out from his pocket. "A little, uh, at-home entertainment for you both. Take a gander."

Well, shit. I already know what this is.

Shoupe turns his phone towards me and Emory, allowing us to watch a video of me threatening the Kooks. "You come near any of them again, especially Brooke... and I'll come back and kill every single one of you."

Emory whistles, not having heard what I said earlier as she was being shoved away by Brooke. "Shit, bro."

"That you?" Shoupe asks despite knowing that it was clearly me in the video. Anyway, he's the one who asked the stupid question, so I have every right to offer him an equally stupid answer.

"A.I. has come a long way," I comment, and I hear Emory snort out a laugh beside me.

Shoupe's head bobs, not an ounce of amusement on his face. "A.I., huh?"

I hum. "Yep."

Shoupe turns his phone off, pushing it back into his pocket. "Well, looks clear to me." He looks from Emory to me. "Come on, man."

"Okay, Shoupe, like, they came at us with a truck, ran over a turtle hatch, nearly killed Kie, alright?" I explain quickly, but I know I can't explain my way out of this one. It's not like he cares.

"You said you were gonna kill them all," Shoupe argues, and that's fair.

"Yeah, out of self-defence, alright?"

"Self-defence? Is that what you're calling it?" He peers at Emory who is staring at her bandaged hand. "Huh, Emory? Was it self-defence when you punched Ruthie?"

Emory glances at Shoupe, eyebrows knitted together. "Who?"

Shoupe inhales sharply, obviously not impressed by her. "What happened to your hand?"

"Oh, I punched the bathroom mirror," she tells, and while she's not lying, Shoupe doesn't look entirely convinced. Honestly, I can't believe she punched Ruthie given that she'd just injured her hand on the bathroom mirror. Like, shit, that must've hurt, though she did what she had to do to defend Kiara, injured or not. I would've done the same for Brooke, and was absolutely willing to start a fight with Topper after he had the audacity to touch her.

Shoupe scratches his neck. "Really?"

She hums, nodding along. "Yep. Been a hard couple of days, you know?" A silent, mutual understanding passes between them, but I don't understand nor do I have time to question it as Shoupe is talking again.

"Look, Emory, I understand you're upset about your mother..." I sneak a glance at Emory, confused as to what Shoupe means by that. Upset about her mother? Why would she be upset about her mother? What does she have to do with this? "...but that doesn't give you any right to assault somebody."

"This has nothing to do with my mother, Shoupe. Also, you have no proof that I assaulted somebody," she chews out.

"Yeah, you're damn lucky there was no video evidence, that the only evidence was a bunch of eyewitness accounts from drunk teenagers." I think I hear Emory exhale a sigh, obviously relieved that she was not caught out for that knockout punch I high-fived her for on the way back to the house. "But do you know how many parents were calling me?"

"No, I'm not psychic," Emory mumbles.

"And..." Attention is brought back to me which I don't particularly like. "I got a report from the ER saying you and Brooke vandalised a hyperbaric chamber. What the hell is that?"

"Well, that was a huge misunderstanding," I claim, hoping I can defend myself without explicitly saying that Brooke and I were very close to being caught by the diver who nearly killed us in the water. "They kept us in there far too long, okay? We were cooked like chicken, like, uh── There's the Improper Patient Care for a Patient Act, where it, like, it protects me from──"

"What the fuck are you saying?" Emory asks.

"I have no idea," I breathe out, head falling back against the sofa.

"Okay, just stop," Shoupe insists, growing more and more agitated by us── more me than her── but he's the one who barged into our home. "I don't want to charge you guys for this shit, but I'm gonna need you guys to help me on something. I'm trying to put this together." Pulling out several photos from his chest pocket, he hands them off to us. "Take a look at these. You know something about him?"

Holding the images in my hands, I flip through, not knowing who this poor sucker is, only seeing that he's dead, dead. I cast a glance at Emory who snatches one of the photos from my hands, not appearing to be phased by the dead guy, not that I am either, but she's looking at it like she knows something. "You seen him around?" Shoupe asks.

"No," Emory and I answer, but Shoupe doesn't seem convinced. "No, seriously, I've never seen him before in my life," I add on.

"He has the same marks on his neck that my mother had," Emory talks, holding the photo up to Shoupe. "Are the cases related? Did whoever kill my mom kill this guy too? Is──"

"Your mom's dead?" I ask, not expecting that. Yeah, she's seemed a little off lately, but I had no idea she was dealing with something that big. Her mother died and she's just been laughing and smiling and cracking jokes. Hello, we literally fought over a game of Tic-Tac-Toe while she's been handling her mother's death. Well, she's good at hiding her upset, I'll give her that.

"Yeah, big deal," she mumbles, waving her hand at me while keeping her eyes on Shoupe. "Does this mean you don't think my mom died of an overdose?"

Shoupe sighs, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Emory..."

I fumble with the pictures in my hand, several slipping past my fingers and hitting the floor. Shoupe doesn't have the chance to respond to Emory as he leans down to retrieve them, but I quickly slide in front, knowing I need to not let him see the body behind the sofa. "It's good. I got it," I insist, collecting the pictures from the floor.

If he sees Terrence, we're as good as locked up.

"Oh, uh, alright." If Shoupe thinks I'm acting strange, he doesn't say anything on the contrary. "I appreciate it."

I push the photos back into his hands. "Yeah, uh... is that it?" Looking to Emory, I find her literally glaring daggers at me as I obviously interrupted her from finding out further answers on the death of her mother. I chuckle lightly, turning away from her and refacing Shoupe again before I turn to ash with how hard she scowls at me.

"Actually, come to think of it, there is something else." I tilt my head at Emory, indicating to her that she needs to come stand beside me to hide the body behind the sofa that's already covered by pillows, but he might still catch a glance if we're not careful. "Listen, just between us, I don't think your mom died of an overdose." I feel Emory relax next to me, no longer appearing tense.

"Then she was murdered?"

"Emory, we don't know for sure," he asserts.

"You have to know something."

"We don't know, Emory. We're just looking into your mother's death and..." His eyes flicker from Emory to me. "...we're looking into the cause of death for Wes Genrette."

Both Emory and I rear our heads back, a little surprised by that. "For Wes?"

"Mm-hmm. So, what were y'all doing on Saturday night?" Shoupe asks, and Emory's mouth gapes in a scoff, her head shaking.

"Seriously?" I should've known he'd jump to conclusions, and by conclusions, I mean accusing us. "Goddamn it, Shoupe."

"You're excusing us?" Her eyes flicker to me before they quite literally turn red on Shoupe, her expression similar to that of what I saw earlier when she punched Ruthie. "My mother just died. In fact, on Saturday, you know where I was. I was at the coroner's office, looking at her fucking body!" I reach my hand out, grasping her shoulder before she gets the wild idea of lunging at Shoupe and assaulting an officer.

"Hey," I force out, shoving her gently.

Shoupe narrows his eyes on her. "I understand you're upset, Emory, but I told you we're looking into it, alright? Now answer the damn question. Where were you Saturday night?"

"I was with my father," she replies, tone low. "We sat on the sofa and drank. Real father-daughter bonding right there." Hm. Sounds painfully similar to my life── turning to drink when things are difficult.

Shoupe turns his gaze on me. "And you?"

"We were here," I tell, swallowing harshly. "We made a campfire, uh, fried a fish up, and then we... put on some tunes, sang some songs. And, uh, that was it." Emory casts a glance at me, nose scrunched like she almost doesn't believe me.

Uh, you're supposed to be on our side, Em.

Shoupe nods in understanding, though it's hard to know if he actually believes me. "Okay. Cooking up fish and singing songs?"

"Yup. That was it," I confirm, Emory remaining dead silent next to me which is probably for the best. When she opens her mouth, she's almost as bad as me in the sense that she causes more trouble than good.

"Alright." He clears his throat. "That's all I need from you guys. For now." He walks past me and Emory, his hand slapping against my shoulder.

"For now," Emory mocks, eyes rolling.

"Listen, guys..." We look over our shoulders at Shoupe who is by the front door. "...you just gotta stay out of trouble for a minute. And keep being honest with me, alright?" We both nod, though neither of us like to be honest, especially not to a cop. Never trust the cops, alright?

Deny, deny, deny has always been my motto, after all.

The moment we hear the door shut, indicating that Shoupe has finally left, Emory lets out half a laugh. "Be honest with him when there's a literal dead body behind our sofa. Hm." She looks to me, hand smacking my chest. Hard.

"Ouch. What the──"

"Cooking fish and singing songs?" she repeats my earlier words in a sneering tone. "We're not at freaking camp, JJ!"

"Well, I'm sorry, you were about to lunge at him," I argue, rubbing the spot she just smacked. "Also, what the fuck? Your mother is dead?"

She forces something of a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, so?"

"What? You didn't think to tell us?"

"I told Kiara and Brooke."

I figured she had talked to Brooke given that Brooke couldn't tell me something about Emory, but I never imagined it would be something like this. I never thought the secret would be that her mother is dead. Not only that, Emory believes her mother was murdered, and by the same dude who supposedly killed Wes Genrette.

"Uh, last I checked I'm not Brooke or Kiara," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.

Her mouth gapes. "You're kidding."

"You know, you piss me off," I utter, moving away from her and heading towards the door so I can leave and talk to the others about what just happened.

"Aw, you still salty about me winning Tic-Tac-Toe?" she jeers, jabbing her finger into my back as we move out of the house, heading towards the others who are joined at the bait shop.

"You cheated," I correct, holding my finger up.

"Ah, you lie, you sore loser."

Kill me. Kill me now.

Actually, don't because then Emory would win.

We reach our friends at the bait shop and Sarah speaks first. "What'd he say?"

"W-What was he doing here?" John B asks.

I look behind me, checking that Shoupe has definitely left. "We're good..."

"Kind of," Emory adds.

I nod, clicking my fingers in Emory's direction. "Kind of. Right."

"Man, did he find the body or not?"

"No," Emory and I reply. "No, he did not find Terrence, okay?"

"Why did he want to talk to you two and not all of us?" Sarah inquires.

"Because one of the Kooks recorded me saying, 'I'll kill you all' at the beach of whatever," I throw out, shrugging at my visibly annoyed friends.

"And Ruthie filed a report against me," Emory adds, leaning against the wall. "Unlike genius over here," she waves a hand in my direction, earning a scowl from me. "there's no substantial evidence against me or whatever, so..."

"Oh, my God," Pope exhales.

"That's why he was here?"

"Look, it doesn't matter," I bite out. "He didn't see Terrence. That's the main thing, okay?"

"Right. What blondie said." Emory drags her hands through her hair. "Oh, there's something else, though. Moustache things Genrette was murdered like my mother and──"

There's no way she just casually dropped that in there like that. Classic Emory, I swear.

"Wait. What? Your mother was murdered?"

"When?"

"Shit, what?"

"Okay, yeah, yeah, it's not a big deal right now, okay? She was murdered, Genrette was murdered, and Shoupe thinks it had something to do with us." Emory moves her finger around the room, pointing at each of us. "Genrette, by the way, not my mother. He obviously, you know, doesn't think I killed my own... Anyway, that's what he said."

"But we told him we weren't anywhere near his place," I add, and Emory hums in agreement.

"And he believed you?" Brooke asks, sounding concerned.

"About everything. I mean, Sunny, look who's sellin' it, alright? He bought it." Emory scrunches her face up, as does everybody else does, including my own girlfriend. Damn. "Look, he did, alright? R-Right, Em, he..."

"Yes, he believed us, believe it or not," Emory chimes in, voice monotoned. "He didn't see him, okay? There's nothing to worry about. We handled it, alright? We got it. We got nothin' to worry about."

Nobody seems convinced, not that I can blame them because, if we're being honest and not denying this, we're completely screwed.

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❀ soph speaks

getting closer to emory & jj finding out they're siblings and im very excited to write it

i've already got the reveal planned out and its funny and so not serious in any kind of way bcos neither of them take anything too seriously

you'll see a lot more of jj's pov from this point forward and probably more emory & jj scenes

thankyou for reading!